Beyond Normal: The Calling
by wearemonsters
Summary: archive/dead/not being updated
1. 1a Call of Darkness

-1AN: _Decided to re-write the story as I really wasn't happy with the product of the alternative. Hope you enjoy it, and this time I think I'll actually have some presence in the form of author's notes every now and again. Enjoy and please leave a review, I'd really appreciate it. And as a final warning, light slash between Sam and an OC._

_-_

Bruised and swollen sky hung low above them, so heavy with it's grey and beaten obesity that Sam was surprised it hadn't begun to crush the car roof above his head, the only thing separating the brothers from the wrathful sky and the torrents of rain it was unleashing upon the environment. The cascading deluge pounding the metal with a low but continuous drumming. He could half see his reflection in the drab window, a forlorn looking 23 year old staring back, messy brown hair that foiled brushes everywhere. Somewhere in his reflection, Sam could see his emerald green eyes glinting softly as tracks of rain made their way down the window leaving smears on his reflection. Breaking the trance that Sam found himself in, he craned his head away from windows overlooking the bleak atmosphere outside and peered at his brother. Although, he had to admit, it was equally as dauntingly despairing outside as it was inside.

'Dean?' Sam asked after a moment of hesitation, eying the clench in his brother's jaw with weariness.

No response.

Sam sighed slowly, shaking his head with a melancholy attitude. Dean had been like this for days now, slowly becoming more and more withdrawn, hiding away in himself. He hadn't even flirted with any of the numerous girls that came on to him. Surely, that was a sign of the apocalypse. Sam half expected to see four horsemen outside the window waving pitchforks with mad grins on their rotten faces. Sam cursed himself for bringing up another possible demon hunt, it was a small job that could probably be handled by incompetent members of law and order, but no, Dean had to be the hero and bundle everything up, including Sam, and begin the long drive to whatever dishwater town they were headed to.

'Dean?'

Still, no response. Although, Sam had noticed the tightening of his brother's jaw though, the subtle action at least revealing that Dean was still alive. You never know when some sort of demonic entity could be festering in someone's brain.. Especially in their line of work.

The stifled atmosphere of the car was almost sweltering now, pressing against Sam like the sky against the car, Sam realised he was feeling increasingly more Claustrophobic. To distract himself, he stared out of the windshield, squinting through the thick curtains of rain. Outside; the sky pulsed.

One more try. 'Dean?' A sad sort of pleading lingered in Sam's voice, echoing around the car with a pitiful air to it.

'What, Sammy, what?!' Dean finally snapped, threw out of his mouth with a ferocity Sam saw had been building inside of him for some time.

'Shit, Dean, sorry, I was just trying t- WATCH OUT!' Sam changed the direction of his words in mid-sentence, eyes bulging in in his head as he stared as the car careened it's way towards the figure standing in the middle of a road.

The figure was still, completely immobile. Arms by his side. Motionless apart from the slight shiver that Sam, even in their current danger, picked up on.

'HOLY SHI-' Dean shouted, spinning the wheel in his now sweaty hands, slamming his foot on the brake so hard that he was surprised that it didn't go through the floor. The car raged forwards however before the slick tires span on the soaked road and began shrieking in agony and protest. The boy stood in the road. Staring at the car. The two brothers closed their eyes. The car began to spin.

And suddenly; the whole world was dark.

Above them the sky pulsed once again.


	2. 2a Blind Faith

-1_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_.

Sam could hear the ringing in his ears, painfully lazily he opened his eyelids which felt like lead sheets. For a moment, all's he could see was darkness and dancing lights that flitted around his vision. Sam willed this strobe light party away and after a minute or two of scrunching his eyes together, his vision cleared. He probed his body with shaking hands, making sure there were no broken bones, fractures, severed limbs.. Everything seemed to be in order, and apart from a slight headache, he didn't feel any nausea, vertigo or dizziness so that luckily disregarded any brain trauma or serious injuries. Squinting, Sam finally found Dean in the darkness and reached out to him, the quiver in his hand returning, he was greeted by a swift slap to his hand. 'C'mon, Sammy, don't be getting all touchy-feely on me,' Dean said croakily, and threw the gloom Sam could see a grin on his face.

'You alright, Dean?'

''m good, how about you Sammy boy?'

'Same.'

'Good.'

After that oh-so-sentimental brotherly love, the two crawled out of the wreckage and Sam winced as Dean ran a hand over the racked hull of his beloved. 'Fucking hell,' Dean said softly. If Sam didn't know him better, he half expected Dean to burst into tears. 'FUCKING HELL,' Dean's voice raised this time, becoming just _slightly _more disgruntled.

'Dean.'

Dean ran his hands threw his short brown hair, which was now in complete disarray due to the continuous hammering of the rain.

'DEAN!' Sam barked, grabbing his brother's arm and whirl winding him around to face.. What?

'Shit.'

In the middle of the road lay the figure, the boy they had almost, hopefully almost, hit. After a moment of hesitation, Sam ignored Dean's protests and rushed forwards, immediately finding the boy's wrist, attempting to find his pulse but as Sam's drenched hand reached out he shot backwards, his hand on fire, oh, god the pain! Cradling his burnt hand, Sam rocked back and forth biting his lip so hard he almost drew blood. Taking a minute to regain his composure, he inhaled deeply and tentatively reached out for the boy's wrist again.

'Sam? What's up?' Dean asked from behind him, surveying the scene with dark, twilight eyes.

'Nothing,' Sam said through gritted teeth. Overturning the boy's wrist, he saw something that he'd rather have not. A bloody, raw mess of symbols carved deep into flesh. A maw of lines and circles, complicated shapes and objects embedded into the pale flesh of the boy. A wet, greasy sheen covered them.

'Sam, is he alright?' Dean asked again, approaching them slowly, he still had half his gaze on his dead vehicle.

'T-There's a pulse, but it's weak,' Sam said softly. He blinked, then let out a quiet gasp. The symbols were gone. No blood. Nothing.

He blinked again.

Just flesh.

Contemplating the situation, Sam finally decided what to do. He picked up the boy, again much to Dean's distress, and cradled him in his arms for a moment before walking over to the car, that although was battered didn't' seem in any imminent danger to explode. He leaned in and carefully placed him on the back seat where it was considerably more comfortable than the cold, hard concrete. Leaning in, Sam's face was now inches from the boy. 'Can you hear me?' he murmured.

The boy's mouth moved, blood caked lips cracked open and he whispered something, eyes fluttering softly like the beating of a butterfly's wings. 'Hello?' Sam asked again.

'GET BACK!' the boy suddenly screamed, there was a cracking sound like the fire of a gun or the lash of a whip. Sam found himself being hoisted into the air, flying backwards in a very ungraceful manner and landing haphazardly on the floor with a painful thump.

'Sam!' Dean cried out, the .32 gun in his hand without realising he had got it out, quickly, he aimed it at the boy, finger dancing on the trigger carefully.

'No! Dean! Don't do it,' Sam said from his position on the floor, slowly standing up and wincing slightly.

'P.. lea..se'

The two brothers looked at each other in shock, eyes snapping to the boy who had somehow got out of the car and was leaning against it for support.

'I… didn… 't m-mean to… out of my.. Contro-' the boy collapsed. The silence was only broken by the sound of the rain sluicing through the night again.

Looking at Dean with a confused gaze, Sam slowly made a beeline to the boy, shrugging away his anxiety and checking the boy's wrist again, just to make sure. Bloody red, hellish red, wounds glared angrily back. By the time Sam had tried to register it, they were gone.

'We have to take him with us,' Sam said squarely.

'You're kidding, right? He nearly killed you!'

'Hardly. We can't leave him here, he'll die.'

'Oh, and what, that's a bad thing? I say leave him here to rot,' Dean said, acid dripping from his words.

'He's just a kid.'

'I don't care if he's fucking Ghandi, we're not taking him with us.'

'The motel's just half a mile away, we can take him with us, tell the motel guys there's been an accident. Get your car towed away to get fixed up.'

'Samm-'

'Stop calling me that! My name's Sam, not Sammy, not Sammy boy. Sam. I mean, jesus, Dean, grow up, I'm not six anymore!,' Sam snapped, rain water running down his face.

Dean felt the words cut through him like a knife through butter, dumbfounded, he stood there for a moment before growling and striding away, the direction that the motel lay. Hefting the boy into his arms, Sam guilty began to follow his now-thoroughly-pissed brother.

The boy, perhaps unwittingly, curled closer into Sam's arms, so much so that Sam could feel what little body heat the boy had left.

Sam wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay.

But he wasn't so sure.


End file.
